


Tears and Facepalms

by RockinT765



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort fic, Fluffy, M/M, but with a bit of comedy, it's silly, minorly sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinT765/pseuds/RockinT765
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya Togami attempts to comfort his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears and Facepalms

**Author's Note:**

> I used the NISA translation, and therefore their first names. And, I know that this fic is kind of short, but I feel like it did what it was supposed to do. Oh, also, this was a request for someone over on Tumblr.

Byakuya Togami wasn’t a fan of change. He had a routine. He woke up, had his coffee, went to work, came home, and went to sleep. Of course, there were always in-between activities, things like eating, exchanging pleasantries with boring coworkers, or making out with Makoto Naegi, but it was roughly the same, each day. Byakuya didn’t, often, deviate. So, when he did, it was for a very important reason.

For instance, coming home to find his boyfriend, curled up on the couch, crying his eyes out.

That was _not_ expected. And, he was _not_ ready to handle it.

Sure, Makoto had been sad, before, but this was different. Sometimes, Byakuya would go too far, and he’d see the tears fall down his little, adorable face, and he’d go cold, knowing that he did that. It was terrifying knowing that he was the cause, and he would more than make up for it, whenever it happened, though rare. Other times, Makoto would remember their friends, or recall the sight of bodies that they’d seen, out in the field, or have nightmares of their time trapped in Hope’s Peak. Byakuya would let Makoto put his head in his lap, and he’d stroke his soft hair, until he was calm.

But, full-on sobbing? That had never happened, at least not in front of him. What did people even do with blubbering messes? Would his usual silence be enough? And, then, mid-thought, Byakuya realized something. _Why_ was Makoto crying? That made him more than scared.

If Makoto had never cried this hard, even after all the despair they’d witnessed, first hand, what could’ve affected him, this way?

Byakuya knew he needed to find out.

Hanging up his jacket, and taking a few hesitant steps toward Makoto, he attempted to calm his nerves. He couldn’t just saunter up to him, not when he was so, clearly, uneasy. He was the logical one, the one that posed disasters as minor inconveniences. Byakuya was a rock, wasn’t he? So, how come he was so worried?

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and focused on the fact that the person he loved more than anyone in the world was crying, and he was just standing there, trying to calm _himself_ down. That was weak. That was selfish. Often, he felt that he was, but he wouldn’t share those things, wouldn’t burden Makoto with whines about his deeply-buried insecurities. It was fine, because most of the time, he covered them up, anyway.

Makoto was the real issue, at the moment. And, he kicked himself for not putting enough emphasis on that.

Summoning the courage Makoto had instilled into him, Byakuya walked over to him.

Makoto was in the fetal position, lying on their couch, in front of the TV, which illuminated the, mostly, dark room. His hair was smushed against a pillow, his ahoge popping up at an obscure angle. He was no longer in his suit, just a long shirt that looked, suspiciously, like one of Byakuya’s own, so he figured that he must have changed, at some point. However, despite all the distractions, Makoto’s tears trailed down his face, like shooting stars through the sky, and Byakuya was acutely aware.

Byakuya stared at him, for a moment, before clearing his throat. At the sound, Makoto’s tired eyes darted to his, shattering him within milliseconds. Byakuya felt like his lungs had collapsed, and driven by his lingering bravery, he choked out the first words that came to him. “H-How are you?”

They were stupid words. They were foolish words. They meant nothing, and Byakuya knew it.

But, Makoto only snorted, in reply, accompanied by the shortest of laughs and a smile, as he wiped his eyes. “I’m fine,” Makoto said, then looked down at his body, aware of the position he was in, “But, yeah, I don’t look too good, huh?”

Byakuya simply blinked, at him, and Makoto shrugged. “I wouldn’t really believe me, either,” he paused, “You’re going to think I’m crazy, when I tell you why I’m crying.” He put an arm over his eyes, in embarrassment. Byakuya thought it was adorable.

“I wouldn’t find it crazy,” he said. Then, after a moment, he added, playfully, “Unless it was.”

Squatting down in front of the couch, next to Makoto, Byakuya stared at him. “Now, speak.”

Makoto lifted the arm off of his face, and met Byakuya’s gaze. A blush spread across his face, his eyes moved over to the wall, and he made a quick sound, one that was almost words, but ended up just mumbling.

When he had finished making sounds that were almost words, but not, he looked back at Byakuya. In return, he offered a light chuckle, and said, “Makoto, I’m sure you’re aware that whatever you _intended_ to say did not make it to me. You’re going to have to try again. _Clearer_ , this time.”

At that, Makoto took a breath. “Gwen died,” he said, quickly.

But, sadly, that did not register with Byakuya. “Gwen?” he repeated, not recalling the person, in question.

Makoto sighed, explaining, “Sh-She’s from my show,” he blushed again, “The assassin? With the short hair?”

And, then it clicked. “Oh my god,” Byakuya facepalmed, “You _cannot_ mean from that stupid American soap opera.”

Makoto laughed, nervously. “Yeah, ‘Of Knives and Hearts.’”

“And, that’s why you were crying?” Byakuya asked, numbed by the stupidity of the person he’d chosen to spend his life with.

“No, but you don’t get it. She was supposed to kill the traitor, who had infiltrated their organization, but it was actually her childhood-crush turned fellow assassin, and she tried to hide him, but the higher-ups, ‘The Forces of the Night’ found him anyway, and they went after him, so she took them all on, and ended up dying while distracting them, so he could escape, and-” he stopped, beginning to cry again. “-then Brian, he… found her sister that she’d been searching for, the one she’d become an assassin, trying to find, and, and,” he sniffled, “It was so sad, Byakuya!”

Makoto jumped up from his spot, throwing his arms around Byakuya, sobbing into his shirt.

And, then, Byakuya didn’t know what to do. How was he supposed to comfort him, when the reason he was crying was so ~~stupid~~ ~~childish~~ ~~unreasonable~~ peculiar? Well, regardless of whether or not he agreed with the reason, there was still a very upset person crying into his shirt, and he needed to do something about it.

The only problem was _what_ he was supposed to do.

Was saying that it was going to be okay, or that it was only fictional, just going to make it worse? Byakuya had no idea.

So, he went with what seemed the most reasonable. He wrapped his arms around Makoto, holding him closer, and laid his head on top of Makoto’s, surrounding the sad boy with a shield of protection, the best he could. And, in that moment, he said what felt right. “I love you.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he meant it just as much as he had, back when he’d finally felt comfortable enough to tell Makoto how much he really meant to him. Byakuya loved him more and more each day, more than he thought he was capable of, even if he did cry because of TV shows.

Makoto raised his head, looking up at him, his eyes wet, but more spectacular than any firework or piece of jewelry could ever hope to be. And, Byakuya’s breath hitched. He spoke, softly, words coming out, without consideration. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Byakuya wasn’t always the complimenting type, but sometimes, he felt compelled to. And, Makoto seemed to enjoy it, if him hugging him tighter was any indication.

“I love you, too, Byakuya,” he rested his head back on Byakuya’s soaked chest, “Thank you. You did a good job.”

And, when Byakuya felt Makoto smile, he couldn’t help but agree.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you liked it! I know it's a bit OOC, but it was too cute to change. Love changes people, okay? Haha. Also, that show doesn't exist. I totally made it up, on the spot, and tried to make it as cheesy as possible.
> 
> P.S. In case it wasn't clear, I meant that he did a good job cheering up Makoto, at the end there.
> 
> Links: (feel free to contact me) (I take both art and fic requests, depending)  
> Tumblr- http://rockint765.tumblr.com  
> DeviantART- http://rockint765.deviantart.com


End file.
